


home again (ON HOLD)

by ToastyBagel



Series: standalone fnaf fics [4]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Brutal Murder, Cigarettes, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Past Character Death, because who doesn’t love some good plant imagery, eh better safe than sorry, ghost au, i tried i rlly did, its probably not too horrible but it’s the most intense i’ve written so, mentions of death and dying, plant/floral imagery, rlly some of the later dialogue gets pretty deep into it, slight dubcon, srry this has to be a two-part oneshot, vincent and william are different characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyBagel/pseuds/ToastyBagel
Summary: And so the bush grew more roses.It always grew more roses.Vincent only despised the plant for its constant reminder of why he was mourning.Scott was dead.
Relationships: Phone Guy/Purple Guy (Five Nights at Freddy's)
Series: standalone fnaf fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770139
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	home again (ON HOLD)

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is a heavily edited version of a oneshot i wrote forever ago, and i’m so excited to share it with y’all! as always, tags and the title of the story are subject to change. I’m only making this in 2 parts bc i got over 5000 words and wasn’t even halfway done with the plot oops

And so the bush grew more roses.

It always grew more roses.

Vincent hadn’t watered it a single time in nearly five years, yet it stayed strong. He cut the branches dangerously short, yet the damned thing wouldn’t die. He left it alone and it began to crawl up the side of the house, leaving red roses pressed against his window.

Walking past the window, he growled toward the greenery that nearly blocked all the sunlight from beaming through the glass.

“I thought I killed you.”

Secretly, he was glad the bush was still alive. The small house was barren; even the yard surrounding it was empty except for the rose bush. He only despised the plant for its constant reminder of why his house was so empty.

Scott was dead.

It was no more than a tragic accident. It  _ could have _ been avoided, but Vincent liked to think that preventing it wasn’t possible. His lover was gone and he couldn’t do anything to bring him back.

It became a habit to wake up in an empty bed, only make one cup of coffee, and not speak at all until he got to work, but that didn’t make Vincent feel less empty; not in the slightest. Scott was, possibly, the most important part of his life.

_ “I really feel like I should tell you…”  _ He said to Scott once while they were laying side by side beneath the stars.  _ “You’ve got no idea how much you’ve changed my life.” _

_ “I think I have some sort of idea. My life changed a lot when you came around, too… And to think I used to not trust you. You’ve been nothing but gentle with me. That’s not how you are around the other guys…” _

Ah, yes, Scott had once witnessed the beginning of a full-blown fist fight between Vincent and Mike one day at work. Other than that, he had noticed Vincent make the occasional advance at another coworker or customer- even their boss- but never Scott. Vincent never  _ tried _ to hurt Scott.

Now, all of his efforts had seemed to go to waste. He could convince himself that he was fine without Scott all he wanted. It was never true. 

So he tried to fill the void. He hooked up with a girl he met online who he rarely saw, he regularly skipped work, and could usually be found in the bar by the corner of the square.

If Scott could only see him now… 

He wouldn’t be  _ impressed  _ by how Vincent was handling his death, but he wouldn’t just leave Vincent to grieve alone, either.

Every once in a while, Vincent would hear a shuffling across the floor that wasn’t his own. The other side of the bed would feel colder than usual, and when the rose bush pressed up against the window with enough force to leave a thin crack across the glass…

He definitely wasn’t mourning alone, but he could have done without the constant reminders.

Certainly, the oddest one, though, occurred on a chilly evening in march.

Vincent was at the same run-down bar he had been going to every night, but he decided he would try to cut back on alcohol for his own sake and that of his friends and coworkers.

So, on his last night of commuting to the bar on a daily basis, he carelessly swung the oaken door nearly off its hinges, slamming twenty dollars onto the beaten-up bar.

“Surprise me,” Vincent muttered to the bartender, who hesitantly nodded before spinning around. 

What Vincent didn’t notice until a few minutes after, though, was the man sitting next to him, head resting on his arms. If Vincent didn’t know any better, he’d say the man sitting next to him was wasted, but there was no empty glass in front of him; there was no glass  _ at all _ .

Vincent turned back to the television hanging from the ceiling before he was interrupted.

“Seems you finally noticed me, huh?” A voice behind him said softly, an echo trailing the last word even though the room they were in warranted no echoes.

“What?” Vincent turned back to the man sitting next to him, who was now sitting up with his elbows propped up on the stained wooden bar. He was so oddly familiar, yet Vincent couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why. Not to mention the fact that he was slightly...transparent…

“Are you alright, Vince? It’s only me-”

“Scott…” Vincent paled, watching Scott’s transparent eyes sparkle beneath the dim lighting. He was still dead, but it truly was him. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, just finishing a task I was given. Typical ghost stuff, you know? I followed you all the way down here; wonder why you never saw me…” Scott traced the circular stains on the bar, occasionally glancing at Vincent, who- in a state of pure shock- couldn’t take his eyes off of Scott.

“Maybe I didn’t see you because you’re a ghost.”

“Whatever,” Scott sighed. “My point is, I need your help. Or- more like- I need to help you.”

“What do you think  _ I  _ need help with-”

“Excuse me,” the bartender interrupted, leaning against her forearms between Vincent and Scott. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing my customers.”

“Oh...oops?” Scott shrugged when Vincent glanced between him and the bartender with a slightly confused, slightly disgruntled expression. “Yeah. She can’t see me, and neither can anyone else.”

“Okay then,” Vincent said before hopping off of the barstool, downing the rest of whatever was in his glass. “It’ll never happen again, I swear.”

“Okay, first of all,” Scott continued while following Vincent, floating through the door of the bar after Vincent closed it. “We’re going to have to show you some classic ghost movies because we’ll never get anywhere on this if you don’t-”

“Well, what’s your goddamn task, anyway? You just got me nearly banned from the only cheap bar in town, so it’d better be good,” Vincent replied impatiently, never able to walk faster than Scott could float beside him.

“Okay, first of all, you might want to hold your phone up to your ear or something so you don’t look like you’re talking to a ghost-”

“I  _ am  _ talking to a ghost! You’re dead; six feet underground. I’m just imagining that you’re here because of that fucking bush in our-  _ my _ backyard!” Vincent closed his eyes, running his hands over his face and through his hair in hopes that Scott’s ghost would be gone when he opened them. “You’re not here. You’re not actually talking to me.”

All Vincent saw when he finally opened his eyes, though, was the saddened ghost of Scott standing beneath a street lamp.

“Well, I guess you could say that. Really, I’m five feet under, though, just beneath the red rose bush, which…” Scott’s breath hitched before he continued. “You’re not going insane, I promise. I’m only haunting you. Please, I wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t important. Just hear me out.”

“What is it, then?”

“Vince, I- I don’t know how to say this.” Scott slightly rocked back and forth on his heels, unable to look Vincent in the eye. “I know you probably had perfectly good reasons for what you did, but… How could you kill all those kids like that?”

“How could I-” Vincent paused in a show of disbelief, taking a step toward Scott. “Look, love, I haven’t killed a single person since you died.”

“Just last week, Vincent. I was there. You can’t lie to me. All I ask is that you stop. Stop killing and stop condoning it. It’s for both of our sakes, really,” Scott explained, allowing a few seconds of silence before Vincent responded.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll do it, but only because it’s you. Maybe we can finally get some closure, too. Your death was... _ abrupt _ , to say the least.”

“I still love you, okay? I may not be here or you may not see me but I still think of you every day. If I weren’t stuck in limbo, you could think of me as your guardian angel...in a sense…”

Scott turned his gaze to the ground, softly glowing as Vincent simply stared at his transparent figure. 

This was all Vincent had ever wanted. Scott had returned the same as he was when he left, so why couldn’t Vincent bring himself to be happy for either of them.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, taking his eyes away from Scott for only a second. “I won’t hurt a soul,” he promised.

It was only a matter of keeping that promise.

******************

“Thanks for taking care of the house for me; my rose bush, too.” A small smile creeped onto Scott’s face when he stepped inside the house, wincing slightly when the lights were all turned on at once.

“Well, it’s my house, too. Speaking of which, I’m going to bed. You can join me, you can look around, I don’t really care. Just don’t wake the neighbors and don’t wake me,” Vincent said harshly, striding ahead of Scott toward the bedroom.

“You’re going to bed already? But it’s only-”

“Things have changed since you left, alright? Get over it.”

“Vince, I’ve been watching you for five years now. You never sleep this early. Are you avoiding me?”

“So what if I am?” Vincent abruptly turned toward Scott, stopping both of them in the middle of the hallway. “I may be hearing your voice, but you’re still dead. Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m going insane because you’re  _ not actually here _ , no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise. I’ll stop killing, okay? I just want the ghost out of my house. You’re  _ really  _ not helping me with this whole grieving thing.”

“Okay,” Scott sighed, “I’ll just stay until we can prove ourselves then I’ll be gone.” He floated over to the mantle, where a framed photo of Scott, Vincent, Mike, and Jeremy had been collecting dust over the years. “I guess I was just hoping we could talk more; we could say the things we never got to say before.”

Vincent sighed, standing at the base of the stairs. “We can talk in the morning. Goodnight- And don’t break anything. I know ghosts like to do dumb shit like that.”

Scott chuckled softly at Vincent’s comment, watching him walk into the bedroom and close the door. 

Although it made sense, Scott was still slightly put off by Vincent’s sudden changes in behavior. After all, it would have been the same the other way around, too.

_ “Vincent,” _ Scott remembered saying once when Vincent returned home later than usual, dressed in a Freddy’s uniform that definitely wasn’t his. Maybe it was the fact that it was a few sizes too small, or that the name tag had been torn off by trembling, bloody fingers, desperate to hide what Vincent had done.  _ “Where have you been? I waited for you all night…” _

_ “Just taking care of business, lovely. You’re lucky you didn’t take that management position; William’s been pretty demanding.” Vincent leaned on the bed, hovering over Scott to impress a soft kiss on his lips. _

_ Scott returned the kiss despite the red and black stains across Vincent’s hands, the distinct taste of blood and cigarettes that he had grown to love now on both of their lips, filling his throat and lungs.  _

_ “I’m just glad you’re home,” Scott breathed against Vincent’s lips before leaning to the side to cough the raw feeling from his throat.  _ Something just wasn’t quite right.  _ “If you’re hungry, I made dinner. It’s in the fridge.” _

_ Vincent brushed his hand against the side of Scott’s face. “Yeah, in a little bit. There’s just...something we need to take care of first; something that’s long overdue…” _

Scott found himself in the basement of the house, which looked as if it hadn’t been touched in years. The painted walls they had spent so many summer days finishing were chipping away and various boxes were strewn across the floor to hide an oxidized trail of blood, which led from the stairs to the back door.

He made his way across the crowded basement, not minding the boxes, to a pull-out couch, which had been in the house as long as Scott and Vincent. It had obviously not been touched since Scott left, dust flying from the cushions when his ghostly hand ran across them, revealing a few bloody fingerprints on the fabric.

The dust settled in the cold air as Scott lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling he knew so well; the same sight he saw the first night he was under Vincent and he knew-  _ more than anything _ \- that he wanted to stay there forever.

Now, of course, he would be there forever.

And so he lay awake, just as he had many times before, only this time without Vincent.

****************

Sunlight beamed through the blinds, illuminating the thin haze of smoke that still filled the room. Vincent’s eyes fluttered open only a few seconds before the alarm clock screeched for the first time. He threw his hand on the button, knocking off the ashtray that had been on the bedside table in the process.

“Shit-” He buried his face in a pillow, hoping to get another hour of sleep before he had to clean up the ashes that covered the carpeted floor. Unfortunately, his efforts were interrupted.

“Not even gonna say good morning?”

Vincent instantly shot up, startled by the sound of Scott’s voice.

“Oh- Right. There’s a ghost in my house.” He sighed, rolling over to lean against the headboard while Scott moved closer until they were nearly touching. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, Vince… I tried to sleep in the basement, but I just couldn’t sleep without you. You know what it’s like to sleep in the drafty basement all alone. That bloodstained couch just isn’t what it used to be…”

“You…” Vincent’s gaze shifted to the ashes spilled across the ground. “You saw what happened to the basement…”

“I did, but I understand. If I had been in your place, I wouldn’t have had the heart to clean it up, either.” Scott almost considered resting a reassuring hand on Vincent’s shoulder, but decided against it. “Come on, you can go make some coffee. I’ll clean up the ashes.”

“No, I’ll clean up. If you want, you can go downstairs and I’ll meet you there-”

“Look,” Scott said, finally deciding to take some initiative. “We’re never going to get anything done if we keep going back and forth like this. We’ve always been this way…”

“Okay, then,” Vincent sighed, exhausted, as he tossed a dustpan and a brush onto the floor beside the mess. “You clean as much as you want. I’ll go and smoke outside somewhere- anywhere but here.” 

Scott picked up the brush and dustpan, wondering how he was supposed to get cigarette ashes out of the plush, carpeted floor. “Vincent- Wait-” He was about to run after Vincent before the door slammed in front of him.

Scott was a ghost; he could have floated through the walls to follow Vincent, but felt as if it wasn’t right. If Vincent wanted to shut him out for the time being, that was fine.

All Scott could do, though, when he knelt on the floor to scoop up the ashes was sigh and think to himself.

They always disagreed, but the outcomes were never quite like this before.

_ The bedroom floor had been stripped of its old, industrial carpeting in favor of something more comfortable. The new carpeting had yet to be installed, though. For now, they were painting the walls a deep shade of magenta with a black accent wall.  _

_ “I can’t believe I let you have purple walls,” Scott said, only loud enough to be heard over the static-filled music from the ancient radio that had been balanced on the windowsill. _

_ “You know...some people say a purple room can make you more aroused~” Vincent’s eyes were half-lidded as he pulled Scott close, both of them kneeling on the floor. _

_ “No one says that,” Scott replied with a smirk. “And I can confirm it’s not true.” _

_ “Oh, really?” Vincent leaned closer, his lips brushing against Scott’s as he spoke. “Because I’ve got a feeling I can persuade you otherwise~” _

_ “Try me,” Scott added with a knowing tone as he pressed a quick kiss to Vincent’s lips. “I’m not easily persuaded.” _

_ “We’ll see about that, then, won’t we?” Vincent met Scott’s lips again, their eyelids falling closed as Vincent slowly pushed Scott onto the unfinished floor, one of his hands slipping under Scott’s shirt while the other was on the floor right above Scott’s shoulder.  _

_ When Vincent finally pulled away, on his hands and knees over Scott, they both gasped for air, the summer humidity and paint fumes not helping their efforts. _

_ “Shouldn’t we open a window or something so we don’t get high off the paint?” Scott asked, but he already knew both of their answers. Dangerous as it was, it was just too intoxicating to pass up. _

_ “Yeah, maybe later.”  _

_ Vincent was about to dive back in when Scott met him halfway, one hand on Vincent’s back and the other on the floor for support. Vincent eventually pulled Scott onto his lap for easier access.  _

_ They stripped when the room became unbearably hot and their heads ached from a lack of fresh air. They continued to make out sloppily in the corner of the room with no less passion than they had before, gasps and moans falling from their lips effortlessly. Through it all, the radio continued to perfectly accompany the mood. _

_ “God, I love you so much,” Vincent mumbled against Scott’s collarbone, tilting his chin up to lick and suck at Scott’s neck, a few beads of sweat dripping from his hairline. _

_ “I- Ah- I love you, too.” Scott moved his hands from Vincent’s back to his chest, slowly tracing his ribs and abs. _

_ “I hope you know how hot you are right now, lovely~” Vincent left Scott’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. Their faces were both flushed and dripping with sweat. _

_ Scott hummed, eager to get back to what they had been doing for a little under ten minutes at that point. “You’re hotter,” he slurred in reply. _

_ Their lungs complained; their bodies felt heavy, their skin sticky and slightly inflamed.  _

_ It was exhilarating. _

_ They were making a new life for themselves, they were drunk off the smell of the paint, and they were so,  _ so _ , in love. _

The paint had since faded, just like every part of the little house. As Scott pulled the vacuum across the carpet, he found other spots where ashes were buried deep into the soft material. It only took a few minutes to clean up before he met Vincent right outside the back door.

“Done already?” Vincent muttered, smoke pouring from his lips.

“Yeah. I got the vacuum out.”

“Thanks.”

Vincent glanced at Scott, who had taken a seat on one of the steps by the door. 

“Your purple walls are fading,” Scott mentioned softly, tracing the cracks in the concrete stairs.

Vincent paused to clear his throat before responding. “I know.”

“Are you ever gonna repaint them?”

Vincent exhaled to get the last of the smoke out of his lungs before turning his gaze to Scott, who was already looking back at him.

“What would be the point of you’re not here to do it with me?” Vincent replied with a smirk. “I know why you’re asking, by the way.”

“You really can see right through me, can’t you?”

“Oh, love…” Vincent sighed contentedly, a slight chuckle resonating in his throat. “In more ways than one.”

****************

“Oh, you’re here on time.” William Afton didn’t even glance toward the door when Vincent entered the office to clock in. “Talk to Michael, he’ll give you something to do.” He stood, walked across the room to slip some papers into a filing cabinet, then turned toward Vincent. “Remember what we talked about.”

“Yes, sir. You won’t get another lawsuit,” Vincent replied, his hands clenched into fists.

“Before you talk to Mike,” Scott whispered, just behind Vincent. “Tell me about the lawsuit.”

William let the drawer close on its own, pacing back to his desk. “I sure hope I don’t, then. Since this  _ is _ , technically, beyond your job requirements, I’d like to give you a raise. It’ll only be temporary- until I don’t need any more kids- but it’ll compensate for the extra risks you may experience. I trust you to keep this between us.”

“Absolutely. Thank you.” Vincent had his hand on the doorknob, ready to escape as soon as he could.

“Oh, also I need one before you leave tomorrow. Leave it in the safe room. Maybe, put a spare head on it for good measure. We can’t let any of these souls escape again. I’d prefer if you did the deed today, but I understand if you’re busy with the inspection coming up and all.”

“But I don’t- Mr. Afton, I don’t work tomorrow.”

“Yes, it’s perfect! You can just drive around the back, lure one of those brats to the fire exit, then dump them in the safe room and leave.” William turned his attention back to the computer screen. “Look, it doesn’t matter how you do it, just don’t get caught. At least you don’t have Scott constantly hanging around you anymore, otherwise we would never be able to keep this going. He nearly got us shut down for the roaches; who knows what he would say about this? He was a fine employee, but I just never thought you two were really good for each other.”

Vincent heard a shaky breath echo over his shoulder.

“Whatever you did, Vincent, it worked. And to think I was just so close to taking care of him myself… But it doesn’t matter now.”

“William-” Vincent turned the doorknob. “I didn’t do anything. Stop putting the blame on me.” He pushed the door open, letting Scott step out of the office first even though he probably could have just gone through a wall or something. “And Scott didn’t deserve any of the shit you gave him.”

William let out a tired laugh, almost as if it had been at the back of his throat waiting to ridicule someone for ages. “Whatever you say. Get to work, and don’t forget to find a kid.”

Vincent didn’t reply, stepping out of the room and letting the door close behind him as he approached a distressed-looking Scott.

“I knew William wanted me dead, but…” Scott anxiously crossed his arms. “Is it true? Was he actually going to kill me himself?”

“I can’t say for sure, love, but don’t let him get to you. He talks about you all the time, good  _ and _ bad. Then, I get to work and don’t see him for the rest of the day.”

“Vince...I don’t know. I just don’t know. I did everything I could to make him like me.”

“I know how you feel, Scott, but there are some people who just won’t like you. It doesn’t matter how hard you try,” Vincent replied, trying to reassure Scott, who only stood against the wall. His eyes were empty as he stared up at Vincent; they were transparent and empty.

William could have killed him at any time, so why did he never go through with it?

_ “This party, it’s…” William Afton was standing just inside the doors to the pizzeria, looking over the halloween party that Scott had planned single-handedly. “It’s amazing. When did you have time to put this together, Scott?” _

_ “Well- You kind of asked me to-” _

_ “That’s not important. You went above and beyond to make this place perfect.” He wrapped an arm around Scott’s shoulders, freezing only a second when Scott flinched.  _

_ “You...gave me a list…” Scott opened his phone to the notes app, scrolling through a list of Halloween party supplies and snacks. “I- I just thought-” _

_ “Before you get back to celebrating, though, I need to talk to you,” William added, dismissing Scott while he spoke soft and low on the shell of Scott’s ear. _

_ “Oh, okay- uhh- what did you want to talk about?” Scott asked, his cheeks flushing as he couldn’t help but squirm in William’s grasp.  _ Something was definitely off.  _ Sure, he had made a few uncharacteristic mistakes in the past week, but so had every other employee. On top of that, William was especially demanding. It was almost as if they all subconsciously knew that something bad was about to happen. William, of course was fully aware. “I’m so sorry about this week. I’m really, really sorry.” _

_ “Let’s talk in my office, alright? Somewhere more...private. It’s hard to hear with all this music.” _

_ “Oh- Well- Uhh-” Scott was already being led away from the crowd by William’s grip on his shoulder. “Mr. Afton, as much as I’d love to talk, I still-” _

_ “Have a party to run? Nonsense; all of our invited guests are here and we have Michael and Vincent to stop any fights that could happen. You deserve some rest.” _

_ Scott chuckled weakly. “That’s funny… That’s what Vincent told me on our way here. He wouldn’t tell you this, but he’s actually really worried after everything that’s happened this week.” _

_ “Worried?” William feigned disbelief as he unlocked the office door, pushing it open and guiding Scott inside. “I can’t imagine Vincent being worried about anything, especially after I witnessed him commit murder a few days ago.” _

_ “Murder? But I thought Jeremy-” _

_ “Not Jeremy. I’m talking about the kid in the mask.”  _

_ The door latch clicked in place after they were both in the room. Faintly, muffled party music could still be heard. _

_ “Vincent was with that kid a lot,” Scott thought aloud, beginning to slowly pace the floor, which had been recently cleared of chairs and mopped. “He couldn’t have done it, though. I was watching him on the cameras all day- unless he was with me, of course. There’s no way he could have killed that kid; I know he seems tough, but he’s really a good guy, I promise!” _

_ “I’m assuming you didn’t notice the blood on his uniform, then.” _

_ “Well- I did, but- We don’t know, he could have gotten a paper cut and touched his sleeve. It could have been syrup from the soda fountain-” _

_ “Scott.” _

_ Scott froze in the center of the room, quickly turning to face William, who only stared down at him. _

_ “Maybe if you stopped going on about it and came to a conclusion, you’d find that he’s undoubtedly guilty of murder,” William enunciated, condescendingly standing over Scott. “Just ask him; he’d lie to anyone else, but to you…” A deep, raspy laugh echoed through the room, repeating in the back of Scott’s mind even after it was over. “Vincent would take a murder and make an excuse for sex from it. Don’t even try to prove me wrong. I’ve seen him with other partners and he’s manipulated all of them.” _

_ A new wave of anxiety washing over him, Scott backed into the wall. To say he was taken aback by what William said would be an understatement. William almost knew too much, which was terrifying in a way Scott had never known before. _

_ “Well, I guess I can’t prove you wrong-” He shifted his gaze away from William, eventually finding a crack in the tile floor to focus on. “Vincent may use excuses, but he’s not manipulative- not to me, at least. I can’t say anything for anyone else he’s been with.” _

_ “So you can’t.” After a few seconds of silently rummaging through his desk, William approached Scott. “I suppose you’re implying that I can’t judge him, either.”  _

_ William was a little shorter than Vincent; when William stood in front of Scott, their chests nearly pressed against each other, their faces were only an inch apart when his index finger slid underneath Scott’s chin, lifting his face close enough to intimidate him- enough to keep him frozen in place. _

_ “That- That you what?” Scott managed to stammer. “You can think whatever you want, but...I won’t…” _

_ “I understand that you love him, Scott. I really do. I just want to make sure you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into.” William quietly slipped the dense piece of metal out of his pocket. “A few days ago, it was that kid in the mask. Tomorrow, though…” He pressed the button, freeing the sharp half of the pocket knife so he could teasingly poke at Scott’s neck. “Tomorrow, it could be you.” _

_ William was on the fence. He had the choice to kill Scott or let him live, neither of which brought specifically harsh consequences. Still trying to decide, he gently dragged the blade down the side of Scott’s neck, leaving a faint white line across the surface of the skin. _

_ “What- What are you doing-” Just before Scott could pull away, he was held against the wall. _

_ “Some people just have a natural lust for blood.” William brought the knife down again, leaving a similar scar where small drops of blood leaked out of the scratch.  _

_ The color drained from Scott’s face when William took his finger to the blood that had dripped from the broken skin. He tasted the blood from his finger, watching Scott’s reaction for any significant changes. He only stood there, tears clouding his eyes, looking as if he was going to be sick. _

_ “I’ve been watching you closely, Scott. You’re not in danger, but I’d watch out if I were you.” William finally pressed the blade to Scott’s throat, feeling Scott’s quickening pulse against his fingers. _

_ This wasn’t how Scott was supposed to go out; he couldn’t die now. He couldn’t die here. _

_ “Mr. Afton,” Scott choked, his hands weakly wrapping around William’s wrists. “I appreciate your concern, but- but losing my life to Vincent is a chance I’m willing to take.” The pressure from the knife slowly lessened. “Please...don’t kill me…” _

_ “Oh, I won’t, but if you fuck up one more time…” William’s voice softened as he leaned closer to Scott, the sides of their faces brushing together. _

_ William wasn’t attracted to Scott; far from it, actually. He only had to scare him. After all, if Scott was on his side, the murders would never be solved because the only witness would never have the guts to tell. _

_ He trailed his fingers across Scott’s chest, feeling it rise and fall quickly before stopping.  _

_ “It would be a shame if something were to happen to you…” William’s hands shifted, running down the subtle curves of Scott’s sides. “I know I’d hate to see you go-” _

_ “No,” Scott whispered, his breath trembling as he tried to struggle away. _

_ William showed no resistance when Scott shoved him aside, darting for the door. He glanced back at William for only a second before opening the door and rushing out. _

_ Scott would never get in his way again. _

“I almost wish it had been William. You know, who killed me.”

“Scott… Don’t say that; you don’t mean it,” Vincent replied, looking up from the bucket he was pouring bleach into. “I’m not only saying that because I don’t like him. There’s a reason I was asked to collect the children for his experiments. I like to make it quick and painless- for both of us- while William likes to make his victims feel true pain. It’s almost like an obsession; one that I’ve managed to avoid for the most part.” 

“Yeah...for the most part…”

“So…” Vincent decided to change the subject. “Are you just gonna follow me around all day or can I just work in peace?”

“Who are you talking to?”

Mike leaned against the wall of Pirate’s Cove, staring down at Vincent, who had quickly turned his gaze away from Scott.

“Who does it look like I’m talking to, dumbass?”

“It  _ looks  _ like you’re talking to Foxy. Is he on the wrong internal clock or something?” Mike strides through the stage, walking straight through Scott. “He always gets set to the wrong time zone or something. I have no idea how… If Foxy bothers you again, let me know and I’ll ask my dad to fix him. Sure do wish Scott were still here so we could make him do it, huh?” Mike added a joking lilt to his words in an attempt to cheer Vincent up.

Scott laughed softly from across the room, a forlorn sigh escaping his lips as he became slightly more transparent and appeared to be glowing. 

“And I’d do it in a heartbeat,” he replied with a small smile, his eyebrows downturned because Mike would never know.

“Now  _ really  _ isn’t the time, Michael. Remember how I told you about that rose bush? It’s put cracks in my windows. You know about haunted shit; how do I make it stop growing?”

“You really think that bush is haunted?” Mike hopped onto the floor, sitting on the edge of the stage.

“It’s as tall as my house, for fuck’s sake! What am I supposed to do, just let it take over?” Vincent glanced at Scott, who faded until he was completely invisible, before looking back at Mike. “Whatever. If you can’t help me, I’ll talk to William later.”

“Look, man, you really need to get over Scott. I know that’s what this is really about. I miss him too, but we couldn’t have stopped that car in the park from hitting him.” Ah, yes, the lie that Vincent made up to cover his own tracks. “Vince, this isn’t healthy. You need to move on,” Mike finished, turning around to approach a table with a small family sitting around it.

“Vince, I- I’ll just leave you to work today, alright?” Scott faded into view, stepping toward Vincent.

“Yeah, you’d better.”

And so he did, fading into nothing as Vincent left the cove for a mop.

_ They were off to a great start. _

**Author's Note:**

> thank u so much for reading! pls leave kudos and comments if u liked it and follow my socials (on my profile) to keep up on the fics i’m writing!
> 
> btw if u liked this you’ll probably also like a fnaf oneshot i posted a little while ago, a life/love well spent! here it is if u wanna go check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333659  
> it’s also on my wattpad if u wanna go read it over there uwu


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